


You Melted Me Awake

by J_E_McCormick



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/M, basically JD during Dead Girl Walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_E_McCormick/pseuds/J_E_McCormick
Summary: JD has fucked plenty of girls. The tall, dark, mysterious new guy shtick is very popular with them. Every new school yielded new girls who were eager to fawn over him.But none of them were ever like Veronica.





	You Melted Me Awake

**Author's Note:**

> JD is a subby little bitch who fell in love with Veronica the moment she shoved him down onto his knees and you will never convince me otherwise okay.
> 
> This doesn't... quite match the tone of the song, but I kind kinda wrote it as one big word dump from inspiration and vague headcanon. Be warned, I'm brand new to the fandom and characters and could be veering right off the canon. Hope you enjoy regardless!

JD has fucked plenty of girls. The tall, dark, mysterious new guy shtick is very popular with them. Every new school yielded new girls who were eager to fawn over him.

But all of them were small, giggling things, batting their eyelashes and biting their lips coyly. They’d lay themselves out in front of him, saying they’d do whatever he wanted, offer themselves as meek little dolls for him to play with, and really, he hated it. He hated when the little blonde from Missouri put herself down on her knees in front of him, hated when the tall brunette from Michigan lay back on his bed and did nothing but make carefully crafted noises. He hated the person he was forced to play for them, and he hated how false it all rang.

He'd fucked them anyway, because what did it matter? He’d never seen any of them again, never wanted to, used them to make this newest pitstop at least a little pleasurable. They’d enjoyed it, could brag or whisper about it, and he got the release of sex before he was carted off to another town, another state, another hellhole before doing it all again.

So yes, JD has fucked plenty of girls.

But none of them were ever like Veronica.

None of them broke into his bedroom at 2am, tipsy, with lustful eyes and wild hair. None of them proclaimed shamelessly that they wanted to ride him until either they passed out or his dick broke.

And certainly, none of them had shoved him onto his knees and grinned down at him, arms spread in a gesture that seemed to ask him what the hell he was waiting for.

JD feels like he’s just been woken up, like he’s been living his life half asleep until this moment. The other girls were nameless faces, blurred figures, almost silhouettes, lifeless and empty and cold; but _Veronica,_ Veronica is here, in sharp focus, real and solid and warm under his fingers. Her name matches to that wild hair and those lustful eyes, those thick lashes, those full lips, and goes around and around in his head. _Veronica, Veronica, Veronica._

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” She breathes, and he’s heard girls compliment him before, words like handsome and strong and toned, but never beautiful. “You say you’re numb inside, but I don’t believe that. Your eyes give you away. There’s too much soul in your eyes for that to be true.” She takes his face between her hands, presses her forehead to his. He feels like putty in her hands, and he hangs onto her every word. “The world sucks, but the world’s not here now. It’s just you and me. So, lets forget all the stupid shit out there, and just enjoy tonight, just us.”

She is the most real person he’s ever met, and he would do anything for her.

“That works for me.” He manages to say, and then she’s on him, kissing him deeply and messily, pushing him back and up onto his bed. It’s not those careful, rehearsed kisses from the other times, too practised and withheld to hold any passion. This kiss is imperfect, and her nose bumps hard into his cheek, and her mouth is a little too wet, and JD fucking loves it.

Veronica takes charge, and his head is spinning too much with arousal to even question it. He doesn’t want to anyway. He grasps her hips clumsily and pulls her close, and she kisses him hard and yanks his shirt up. He breaks apart from her to pull it off entirely, and she shrugs off her jacket. She lurches forwards again and the kiss against his lips is brief, and then another is pressed to his jaw, his throat, his collarbone. He gasps and arches wordlessly into her. None of the other girls ever did anything like this for him. She tugs sharply at the waistband of his sweatpants; a second tug takes down his briefs as well. She pulls them off his legs without ceremony.

He lies there completely bare before her, hard against his stomach and breathing raggedly, and she leans over him almost completely clothed and smirks. JD has never felt much more than distant disinterest in his previous encounters, but right now every nerve is livewired and his heart beats to a frantic rhythm.

He could love Veronica Sawyer, he thinks. He might love her already.

She pulls back, her lips still quirked, and shimmies her knickers out from under her skirt. She doesn’t bother to take the skirt off before moving to straddle him. She grinds down against him, hot and wet, and groans softly, tipping her head back. JD thinks he makes a noise as well, likely strangled and breathless, but he is focused utterly on her and doesn’t really notice.

“Let’s break the bed.” Veronica says, grinning, her face flushed darkly.

He has no idea how she found out where he lives. He has no idea how she got into his room. His sheets are half on the floor, and he thinks his mattress may already be torn. But Veronica is guiding him carefully into her, letting out little noises that are breathy and shuddering and _real_ as she sinks down onto his length, her nails digging hard into his chest where she’s leaning her weight to balance, and JD cannot bring himself to care.

“Okay.” Is all he can manage, his voice small and meek and smitten.

It’s his turn to simply lie back, let someone else take the lead. Veronica sets the pace, Veronica decides how hard to go, Veronica shifts herself to find the best angle. Veronica tells him what to do, where to touch, when to move. It’s like she’s using him for her pleasure, pulling strings to puppet him to her will, taking and taking and taking what she wants from him. He gives willingly. He would give her all that he has, everything he is, let her bleed him dry, if it would make her happy.

She isn’t gentle. She makes demands of him, tells him to pull her hair and slaps him about the face when he doesn’t tug hard enough. He gasps at the sting of pain and his hips roll up hard into her, and he pulls sharply more from surprise than obedience, but then she moans long and loud, unabashed and wanting, and he will do anything she asks to get her to make that noise again. She bites at him, rakes her nails down his back, and the pain grounds him, tethers him to this moment, and sends hot blood surging through him. He is frantic now, moving against her, grasping onto her like she is his last lifeline ( _because she **is** his last lifeline_ ), his eyes locked on her face and revelling in the absolute clarity she gives him.

He feels his end approaching fast, much too fast, and he tries to plead for her to wait, to give him more time. He wants so desperately for this to last longer, for it to not end, but she is relentless, pushing him down onto the mattress and pinning him there as she rides him, gives him no choice but to tumble to the edge and over it, shouting out as everything in him explodes; every barrier he’s constructed, every carefully built dam, obliterated like the buildings his father rigs with TNT. Above him, she echoes the noise, her back bowing stunningly, her head tossed back. He has never seen anything so beautiful.

Even as she lifts herself from him, the numbness he is so used to does not return. Even as he pants for breath and his heartbeat slows, he does not fall back to sleep. He is awake, alive, feeling. Veronica smiles down at him, soft and happy and a little tired, and he knows that as long as she is here, beside him, he will stay that way. The revelation warms him to his core, where before he has frozen himself to ice.

From that moment, JD knows; he is hers, and always will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is super appreciated, I'm not entirely certain on how happy with this I am so I'd love to hear feedback on it. Thank you for reading!


End file.
